


Stay

by Jinxter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6858346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxter/pseuds/Jinxter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma is leaving. But before she goes, she needs to retrieve one thing from Regina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took on a life of its own. It was meant to be much, much angstier, but alas the fluff-monster attacked and I don't even know what happened.
> 
> Also, an announcement: this is now an imperfect fic-zone! I'm tired of writing and writing and writing and never editing and posting anything so things are going up as-is, like it or lump it now. Maybe the pressure of knowing you guys are seeing my glaring errors and infinitely alternating tenses will spur me to make the required edits to correct in a way that saving to my fic folder never to see the light of day again does not.
> 
> I wrote this to this album (mostly White Owl on repeat) [Josh Garrels - Love & War & The Sea In Between](https://joshgarrels.bandcamp.com/album/love-war-the-sea-in-between)  
> Also partly inspired by this cute, casual, comfortable [SwanQueen fanart](https://twitter.com/Anastasia290499/status/731516879299313665)
> 
> Xx.

There is a loud pounding on the door, over and over, which continues while Regina descends the stairs. She flings the door open, and almost catches a fist to the face. 

Emma stumbles forward, catching herself on the doorframe, and their faces are close enough together for Regina to catch the strong scent of alcohol on her breath.

She glances around the woman then glares at her even harder. "Miss Swan," she hisses, "did you drive here in this state?" The question rather rhetorical considering the yellow deathtrap is currently parked half over one of her best rose bushes.

"No!" Emma protests, but the guilt in her eyes gives her away in a heartbeat. "I just came for... I need my blanket."

Regina bites back a jibe and her eyes soften slightly at the mention of Emma's blanket. The blanket Regina had borrowed when she had tried to find Emma as the Dark One, the blanket which she had brought home out of convenience, and had intended to return to its rightful owner, but which just hadn't happened yet, for various forgettable reasons. It sat, folded neatly, on the corner of the chaise in her bedroom. 

She narrows her eyes. "Why?"

Emma clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, looking remarkably like a teenager with her beanie pulled down low and curl of her scrunched shoulders. She shoves her hands in her jean pockets, not helping her image. "I just do."

Another glance at the bug reveals something Regina hadn't noticed at first, her concentration mostly focussed on the crushed rose bush under wheel. A cardboard box sat on the passenger seat, it's flaps at haphazard angles. Her stomach drops. In a voice she hadn't intended to sound so hurt, she says "You're leaving?"

Boots scuff on the porch step as Emma avoids eye contact. "I just need it," she mumbles.

Regina sighs and stands aside. "Get in here." She closes the door behind Emma and tightens the belt of her robe.

There is a creak on the stairs above them, and Henry's sleepy voice echoes down to them. "Mom?"

She crosses to the bottom of the stairs and smiles at her son. "Go back to bed, sweetheart."

"Is Ma here?" He leans over the bannister and finds Emma looking up at him like a deer in headlights.

"Hey, kid," she says, accompanied by an awkward wave.

"It's fine," Regina says, "Emma just came to pick something up. Go back to sleep."

He narrows his eyes at his mother, skeptical but obedient, and yawns. "Okay. Goodnight Moms."

"Would you like some coffee? You have a long drive ahead of you." 

Emma hesitates and glances towards the kitchen. "Umm, no. It's okay. I just need my blanket."

"Very well," she says brusquely, "follow me."

The blonde follows her up the staircase, the soft sound of her boots in the tracks the silence of Regina's bare feet. She stands in the doorway to Regina's bedroom, uncertain whether she is allowed to enter. Regina pads across the thick carpet to the chaise, picks up the knitted white blanket, and sits down. The blanket rests in her lap and she strokes her fingers over the purple ribbon woven into the shape of her name. EMMA. She sighs.

Emma crosses the threshold into the darkened room, blue moonlight stretches inwards from the windows. The sheets are thrown back on one side of the bed, a half-drunk glass of water rests on a coaster on the bedside. She makes her way slowly to the chaise, where Regina makes no move to look up at her nor hand her the blanket.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology, I want to know why. Why now?"

With a sigh, Emma sits on the chaise next to Regina. She sits stiffly at the edge of the seat, her muscles tense, mindlessly wringing her hands as though she is restraining herself from grabbing the blanket and running away. "I am sorry. After everything you did for me. After everything, everyone you lost because of me. You must think me so ungrateful."

Regina sits in silence, the moment lingers without response.

"I didn't think about what would happen when I took on the Dark One's curse, I just did it. I suppose I thought it might kill me. Maybe it should have." She licks her lips and shifts slightly. "I am really sorry, though. The more I get of what I think I want, the more people seem to want to give it to me, the more I don't want it. 

"I wanted to find my parents, my family, but finding them didn't stop any of the hurt that they sent me away, and they replaced me with another baby to give them be the child they always wanted. What I can't be for them. I know they love me, but I feel worse than I did before Henry found me. I was used to being alone, I'd accepted it, you know?"

She watches Regina's fingers touching her name. "I didn't believe in true love back then either. I believed there were people whose paths crossed sometimes, but it was always temporary. I'd accepted that too. It was easy, really, having no strings.

"But I guess that's just how I'm made. I'm not made to be in love. It feels like... like a burden. It's this weight that this is it forever and I can't stand it. But when I lost it, I panicked. And I'm so sorry that after everything you went through to save him so I would have that back again, that I've gone and thrown it away."

Regina sighs heavily. "Idiot." Emma turns to her, mouth downturned and brow furrowed in confusion. Deep brown eyes shine back at her. "You think what I want for you is a ball and chain? After talking about beating fate and deciding who we want to be and choosing for ourselves?"

She places her hand over Emma's wrought fingers, stilling their movements. "I went to hell for you because you chose to save the pirate. I don't know why you'd choose him, but you did, and if you wanted to save him, I'd help you." She leans in. "You."  
Emma drags in a shaky breath. "I wanted... to not be the cursed one who always loses... everyone dies."

"I know," Regina squeezes her hand, "trust me, I know. What is it that you want? Other than a long drive and a fresh start, what is your big picture?" 

Pale pink lips part and close a few times before she finally answers. "I don't know. I don't think I'm made for love."

Regina snorts. "Well that's a lie." Emma glares at the dismissal and Regina quickly corrects. "Henry. Not only do I see with my own eyes how much you two love each other, it was your True Love's kiss that saved him."

"But loving him is easy," Emma protests. "I mean, he can be hard work sometimes, but loving him is never hard."

"And his love for you?"

Emma smiles, her eyes glistening. "At first it was a lot of pressure and I resisted, but... he makes me want to try harder and be better... without ever making me feel like I'm not enough already." Tears begin to spill over her cheeks. 

Regina shifts closer, their thighs pressed up next to each other, and her arm reaches around Emma and squeezes her shoulder through her leather jacket. She kisses the side of Emma's head where her hair lay flat, pulled back in a messy ponytail. "I know," she whispers, and kisses her again. She feels Emma fold into her and pulls her closer, tucking her chin on top of Emma's head as she cries. 

"That is the love you deserve, Emma. You know I think you're too good for the pirate. You don't somehow owe it to us to stay with him, if you want to leave him, leave."

Emma sniffs against her satin robe. "I did."

"You don't need to leave us as well," Regina whispers. "Stay. Stay here with us."

The blonde doesn't say anything, but though she lifts a hand to wipe her cheek, she doesn't shift out of Regina's embrace until Regina pats her knee. "Come on, it's late." She stands, and Emma wobbles as she follows. "Hop into bed, I'll get you some water."

She rinses out the glass in the ensuite that she had earlier used when brushing her teeth, and filled it with water. Emerging back into the bedroom, she rolled her eyes at the pile of jeans, boots and jacket next to the bed, her own spot now occupied, and her own glass of water now empty. She places two aspirin and the fresh water on the coaster with a raised eyebrow at the mock sheepishness on Emma's face, though she isn't sure how much the cheekiness was the alcohol and how much was actually because the woman was feeling happier.

Regina picks up Emma's jacket and jeans, draping them over the low stool in front of her vanity, and she moves the boots to the side. She refills her own glass of water, hangs her robe in the bathroom, then pads around to the opposite side of the bed and slides in under the covers facing the other woman. Looking at Emma's back, she realises her ponytail had been released, and the mane of hair draped over her shoulder and the pillow. 

Tentatively she reaches out to tuck her hair back, and Emma rolls onto her back at the touch.

"Sorry," Regina murmurs, and pulls back.

While Emma's face remains expressionless, under the covers a hand seeks out and finds Regina's, and their fingers link together.

Sometime in the pre-dawn, when the first birds begin to chirp and the sun's first rays warm the night sky, Emma drifts into consciousness. She feels parched, a dull ache radiating in behind her eyes, and stiflingly hot.

Running her tongue around her dry mouth, she balks at the taste, and lifts her head, cracking one eye open. The small movement reveals the reason she feels overheated, as Regina unconsciously tightens her grip around Emma's waist, her body rolled forward over Emma's, her chin pressed against her shoulder, lips slightly parted. Emma feels her heart swell at how light she seems with her face free of all tension.

Still, overheating. Emma slides her hand out from the heat where it was pressed against her own thigh, pinned between their bodies where Regina's leg was resting slightly atop her own. She twists, and the hand on her belly tightens again before letting her roll away, and propped up on one elbow, she pops the two pain killers in her mouth and washes them down with the entire glass of water.

When she rolls back and looks down again, Regina's eyes are open. Emma wipes the water moustache off her upper lip. "Hey," she croaks.

Regina blinks, rolls her lips, then swallows. "Hey." She rolls onto her back and looks to the other side across the unoccupied expanse. "Do you want more?"

Settling back down on the bed but throwing back the covers and sticking one bare leg out to help her cool down, Emma blinks, trying to coax some moisture back into her eyes. "More cuddles?"

"Water. I meant water." Regina scoots across the bed and reaches for her own glass. She takes a sip then turns to Emma, who seems almost frozen in place, and holds out the water. "I don't have cooties."

The blonde chuckles and lifts herself up, finishing that glass as well. When she turns back after placing it on her bedside table, Regina has moved a little closer though is now laying on her back. She pulls the quilt a little higher.

"Cold?"

"It is a little on this side of the bed, yes."

"Aww, poor baby."

"Miss Swan--"

"Would another cuddle warm you up, Madam Mayor?"

"Go back to sleep."

"I never pegged you for a cuddler."

Regina huffs and rolls onto her side, away from Emma. "You stole my side of the bed."

"Sure, sure," Emma rolls and scoots towards Regina's back. "you seemed quite happy basking in my body heat."

"You are quite the furnace," she wriggles back slightly, and Emma smiles and takes the cue. She moves her hand out of the way, placing it gently on Regina's waist on top of the covers. She curls around her back, knees tucked up behind Regina's, one atop the covers, one beneath, and her nose buries into dark hair that smells of geranium and rosewood. "Alcohol inhibits the body's ability to regulate temperature," Regina continues.

"Shhh," Emma mumbles into the back of her neck. "Go back to sleep."

When Emma wakes next the sun is high in the sky and she is alone. She rolls onto her back and the room rolls a little bit with her. Her head thumps in time with her heart as she scrunches her eyes against the morning light and tries to remember if spooning Regina was a dream or reality, unsure if she actually wanted to know the answer.

She shifts, adjusting her undergarments, curses sleeping in her bra, then reaches for the refilled glass of water next to the bed. 'God bless Regina,' she thinks as she downs the cool liquid. Unfortunately her bladder doesn't let her rest long, and she grumbles as she rolls out of the extrordinarily comfortable bed and pads into the ensuite.

Her hand brushes the silk robe as she opens the bathroom door, and since she really can't be bothered battling her jeans so early (in feeling, not in reality) she dons it, tightening the sash at her waist. It smells a little like Regina and feels so nice against her skin. 'Like Regina,' she thinks briefly. Then tendrils of doubt curl up around her ankles, coiling around her legs, and she walks away trying to outrun the sinking feeling that she's done wrong.

The kitchen smells like coffee and bacon, and she's so hungry she feels she could have closed her eyes and followed her nose all the way there. Regina senses her presence, turns, and gestures to the robe with the spatula in her hand. "Oh sure, make yourself right at home, why don't you?"

Emma's face falls as the doubt catches up to her. Her hands curl around the lapels of the robe, but when she looks up, Regina is watching her curiously. Not angrily. 

"Fresh coffee in the pot," she says, "help yourself."

She's been there enough times to know where the cups are, and the spot in behind the delicate teacups where the mugs are. She smiles at the hand-painted "World's Best Mom" mug that Henry had made in third grade, and instead takes her favourite mug, the "YAS QUEEN" one Regina had received in the local government Secret Santa the year before. From Emma, of course.

Regina flips a large, thick pancake onto a warm plate and slides along the counter towards Emma. She opens the broiler and slides a tray of sizzling bacon onto a ceramic trivet on the counter. "Syrup is in the pantry. Cream is in the refrigerator if you want it." 

The spoon clinks against the mug as Emma stirs in her two teaspoons of sugar. One more than usual, but she needs it this morning. She pours in a slug of milk, places it back in the fridge, swiping the cream as the door closes. She squirts a dollop into her coffee, then one into her mouth. 

"You eat like a child," Regina chides.

Licking her lips, Emma advances on Regina, cream can raised. "You need some new insults." 

"Don't you dare!"

Emma laughs and instead squirts a stripe across the pancake, lays bacon on the melting cream, and drizzles syrup over it all. She rolls it up like a burrito and takes a bite out out of one end, cream and syrup drip out the other end down onto the plate while Regina watches with bemused disgust.

"So good!" Emma's eyes roll back in her head, and she takes another bite before she finishes chewing the first. "Oh my god."

"I'm a queen, not a god." Regina pours batter for another pancake into the oiled pan.

"Cuddle queen." Emma says mid-chew, and swallows the large mouthful. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, syrup plastering down the fine blonde hairs in an unnatural line. "I am totally gonna get that on a mug next time."

Regina points to the mug Emma had temporarily abandoned on the other counter. "I knew that was you!" Emma just grins and takes another bite. "Anyway, you were on my side of the bed. I've spent many years on that side of the bed, you know. It was purely habit, don't let your ego tell you otherwise."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Emma says, quirking an eyebrow. She lifts both hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm not complaining," she says at Regina's scowl.

The spatula clatters to the counter and Regina captures Emma's wrist in a firm grip. Syrup and melted cream oozes over both their hands as Emma clenches her food unwittingly. "Emma! You're getting syrup all over my robe!" She wrenches Emma over to the sink, and taking the remains of her breakfast in her other hand, nose scrunched, she runs water over their hands and the sleeve of the robe when she notices another drip down near Emma's thigh area.

"Sorry!" Emma says, and it comes out more pleading and childish than she intends, though it seems to soften Regina's demeanour.

She sighs, and turns off the tap. "It's okay. Just take it off, I'll soak it. It'll be fine."

"Umm," Emma hesitates, "I..."

Regina rolls her eyes. "I already woke up to your bare ass, no need to be shy now."

Pinkness spreads across Emma's cheeks as she remembers the wild wedgie she woke up with. She removes the robe and shoves it at Regina, who smirks, her eyes flittering down Emma's form before she turns and disappears into the laundry room.

Emma looks around the kitchen and wonders if she would look more or less ridiculous if she donned the apron hanging inside the pantry door. Her thoughts are short lived as a pair of yoga pants are fired at her. She catches them and gladly pulls them on. "Thanks, Regina."

"Flip my pancake, will you please?" Regina replies from the laundry room where the running water turns off and a cupboard door closes.

Emma does so with a chuckle. "Strangest euphemism I ever heard."

"What was that?" Regina is somehow already in the room and Emma bumps her hand against the side of the hot pan as she flinches.

"Ow! Nothing!" She retreats away from the stove, yielding the spatula to the more experienced cook. She sucks the side of her hand. "So, the kid..." she begins, changing the subject.

"Left for school," Regina says, and looks at the clock on the oven, "over an hour ago."

Picking up another piece of bacon with her fingers, Emma takes a bite. "Oh. Does he know..."

"Your car is still parked half way across my garden," Regina purses her lips and Emma pales.

Emma pinches the bridge of her nose and groans. "Oh god." 

"Queen, I keep telling you," Regina teases. She switches the burner off as Emma runs out of the room, and follows her at a normal pace, walking out the flung-open front door of her house. She watches Emma crouch down at the front of the bug, inspecting the damage to the white rose. Cursing under her breath, Emma wrenches open the driver's door, then curses out loud.

"Someone stole all my fuckin' shit!" She kicks the tyre.

Regina steps off the porch hurriedly, "Emma, no. I transported it upstairs last night so it would be safe. It's in the guest room."

"Oh," Emma says sheepishly, "sorry, it's just.. some of that stuff is..."

Regina touches her arm, knowing that the woman with few possessions treasures the few dearly. "It's okay, I'm sorry. I should have told you."

She climbs into the car sheepishly, fires it up, revving the cold engine it so it doesn't stall, and slowly eases it back. She reverses down the driveway, then pulls forward up next to the Mercedes, staying on the concrete this time.

Emma approaches the broken plant. "Don't tear it off," Regina scolds, as Emma attempts to amputate the worst affected limb with her bare hands. Regina magics some garden shears and hands them to her. "Prune it properly."

"I don't know how." Emma looks up at her, shears in hand and a guilt-ridden expression.

Regina crouches and points to where the branch joins the main trunk. Cut it here," she points to just above the joint of another bent branch, "and here," then another, "and here."

"I'm sorry," Emma says earnestly, gathering the cuttings, flinching at the stab of a thorn. 

Magicking the shears away, Regina stands up. "It will survive." She is smiling warmly when Emma meets her eyes.

"What?"

Regina purses her lips. "Oh nothing, just the great and powerful Savior, former Dark One, and Lightest Of All Light on her knees at my feet."

Plucking a white rose from a cut stem, Emma flings it at Regina, who bats it away, stepping back with a loud laugh. Emma drops the cut branches and chases Regina back into the house. She catches her in the foyer, and wrapping her arms around the brunette's waist, lifts her off the ground and spins her around. They're both laughing and the warm spring breeze is wisping in around them, and when Emma plops Regina's feet back on the ground she spins around and pinch-tickles Emma's sides.

As the laughter subsides, Emma realises Regina's eyes are wet, and sombers quickly. A warm hand touches her cheek, and Regina strokes it gently. "It's so good to see you happy. That's all I want, you and Henry happy and healthy."

Emma's hands slide around Regina's lower back and she instinctively pulls her closer. "Me too. You and Henry. And the town. But mostly..."

"Trust you to care about everyone else."

Emma leans forward and presses their foreheads together. "You do too, don't lie."

"Shhh," Regina deflects and ducks her head, and Emma swears she feels lips quickly press against her bare collar bone as the shorter woman hugs her back. It only lasts a moment, then Regina leans back in the embrace, arms still at Emma's waist. "So, Savior. Will you stay?"

A sadness crosses Emma's face as she glances out the door. She knows she can't return to the house she shared, however briefly, with her now ex, and feels as though she is past the point of returning to her parents' apartment.

"Here," Regina says huskily, "if you want. Your belongings are already in the guest room." She doesn't meet Emma's eyes, and instead fidgets with the circular pendant hanging against Emma's chest. "They can stay."

Nervous dark eyes finally meet green, and Emma smiles. "Okay. I'll stay."

A triumphant smile bursts across Regina's face for just a second before she quickly smothers down to a grin, though her eyes twinkled with delight. She pushes away from Emma and ascends the foyer stairs. She glances over her shoulder. "Well, are you coming," she asks as she disappears out of sight.

Emma follows, and leans against the door frame, her arms crossed, and watches Regina re-light the stove burner and whisk the pancake batter.


End file.
